American Camping
by crocious
Summary: Alfred and Matt go on an Appalachian adventure! Hilarity ensues as the two learn what it means to be there for your brother. Mild language, bacon abuse and a state gets insulted.


**Hey, Hetalia fans! I had this lying around and I decided, eh, what the hell. It'll be my 4th publish this week. I'm either very awesome or slightly insane. "Insane." SHUT UP CARTMAN! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN MY HEAD! GO AWAY!**

**It's a fam-fic about Alfred and his favorite brother! Not England. I like USxUK and I don't like incest, so I kind of divorced the brother part in my head. Who cares, right? It's all fiction.**

**Sadly, no England in this one. I didn't want to be tempted into romance.**

**Shit. I'm trying to remember America's brother. C... Colfax? Canadia? Bear? Why is it so hard to remember this guy! **

"Matt! Matt! Mattie! Matt! Hey Matt! Matthew! Matt! Matt! Mattmattmattmattmattmattmatt...!"

Matt was torn between annoyance that his big brother wouldn't shut up while he was on the phone with his boss and simple relief that someone was calling him by his name. Not even the Prime Minister could be relied on to remember.

Matt finished his call and swiveled around in his home office chair to face Alfred. "Yes?"

"Okay, bro, check it out! You know that campground in the Appalachians I was telling you about?"

"We're not going camping, Al."

"We're totally going camping! Just check out this lake, dude!" Alfred spread his fliers, pointing to beautiful pictures of families and rivers and autumn leaves.

"Wow," Matt murmured. "That really is beautiful. Are you sure this is part of your country?"

"Ha ha, dick. I've got a spot booked for Saturday!"

"Only a week to prepare? Alfred, I can't be ready in a week! I have a huge presentation that Monday and I have a ton of preparations. And the Appalachians are really buggy right now. I'll need to fill my prescription cream. Not to mention the weather is supposed to be cruddy for the next month down there."

"Oh, no, Matt. You misunderstood me! We're not going next week!"

"We're not? Okay, good. When are we going?"

...

Three hours later, Matt and Alfred were cruising down through Michigan in Alfred's red Mustang. Alfred was singing with the radio and Matt was doing his best to be passive aggressive. It didn't help that Al was a total idiot about mood and atmosphere. Whenever Matt sniffed pointedly, the American tossed him a box of tissues.

Nor did it help that Al was so damn _thrilled_ to be going on a trip with his brother. But if his happiness wasn't contagious, the song he kept playing on the CD player was.

"And I would walk five hundred miles and _I_ would walk five hundred more!"

Al nudged his brother repeatedly through each consecutive playing, making a point to yell "DA_DA_DA!" in Matt's ear whenever the chorus came up.

After what seemed like hours of this, but was probably only hours, Matt caved and sang along with his brother. "Just to_ BE_ the man who walks a thousand_ MILES_ to fall down at your door!" And then, just like they had when they were younger, they made a contest out of who could scream "DA_DA_DA!" the loudest, punching each other in the arm to make the other screw up, drinking each other's soda to distract them and generally acting like children. Matt started laughing, something he'd been forgetting to do for a while now. Alfred gave him a satisfied smirk behind his glasses and pinched Matt's nose in order to screw him up on his DA_DA_DA!; Matt noted that this was probably a better game to play if, like when they were kids, someone else was driving.

The song ended and the brothers fell into breathless laughter. "Thank God," Alfred chuckled. "I thought we'd have to listen to that song all the way to Pennsylvania!"

"You're such a cocksucker, dude." But Matt was grinning ear to ear, happy to be back with his brother/best friend after months of confusing politics, international feuds and the worst weather Canada had seen in years.

Alfred smiled and finally switched the endless "500 Miles" CD to the one Arthur had mixed for his birthday. "Bad Romance" came blaring through the speakers and Matt cracked up.

"What," Alfred asked.

"Oh, Al, tell me the irony isn't lost on you!"

"What irony?"

Matt laughed harder. Soon, they were challenging each other on the chorus again to see who could scream "RARARA AH AH!" the loudest. Neither of them knew all the words but they loved the beat. Matt mumbled incoherently with the tune while Alfred took the liberty of creating new lyrics, mostly dirty, so he didn't have to stop singing with the chorus.

It was like this that the brothers passed into Ohio.

...

"Are you kidding me?" Matt slammed the car door as angrily as any Canadian can muster. "_This _is why you didn't want to take the short route through New York?"

Alfred had pulled over to the side of the road and walked out into a field that any layman could tell you was empty. Not fallow, not lawn or anything, just _empty_ for at least a mile in every direction from the highway. Alfred stood knee deep in weeds and brambles, hands on his hips.

Matt sighed. Alfred did this every time he was in Ohio and not at Cedar Point.

"Why are you here!" Alfred screamed, but there wasn't even anything to echo off of, the field was so empty. "What is the point? I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU!"

Matt opened a package of Doritos and let his brother get it out of his system. Five minutes of yelling and begging later, Alfred made his way back to the Mustang. Matt licked Dorito dust off his fingers and rolled his eyes.

"At some point you're going to have to relax and accept Ohio the way it is, dude."

"Not until it stops being pointless."*

With that, Matt and Alfred passed into Pennsylvania.

...

"No, Alfred, it's not even, like, obscure! It's general knowledge!"

"I'm telling you, Matt, there's no place called Saskatchewan. I mean, people are retarded, but no one's retarded enough to actually name a place Saskatchewan!"

"When we were kids you were convinced you could fly to space with enough firecrackers in your ass."

Alfred scrunched his eyebrows together. "Revision," he said. "No group is _collectively _retarded enough to name a place Saskatchewan."

Matt laughed.

The road grew narrower as the Mustang made its way up the mountain. Matt began to tremble looking down at the three hundred foot drop he was literally inches away from. Alfred slowed the vehicle for Matt, but it was still too fast for him.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath," Alfred said apologetically. "It'll all be over soon."

"That's what she said," Matt murmured from between his knees.

Alfred threw his head back and laughed heartily. The car swerved a few centimeters.

"Eyes on the road, you idiot!" Matt wanted to glare at Alfred, but he was paralyzed with fear. He satisfied himself with growling. He didn't know why and it made him look like a moron, but growling at Alfred seemed to calm him down so he did that for a while.

Matt felt a warm hand on shoulder. "Would you relax?" he hear Alfred say. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Matt looked up. Alfred was smiling tenderly at him. "You're my little brother. I'm always going to look out for you." Al offered a laugh and Matt smiled weakly.

Suddenly, Matt remembered they were in the car. "EYES ON THE ROAD YOU IDIOOOOOOT!" Alfred clutched the steering wheel and screamed in terror with Matt.

Alfred tried to keep it up, but he broke off laughing as his brother screamed. Matt looked at him and let his voice die in his throat. Alfred kept laughing as Matt brought himself to peek out the windshield. He jumped when he saw the cabin, but when he realized it wasn't coming closer he stole a look at the gear shift. Park. That motherfucker.

Alfred was still laughing and Matt was still refusing to look at him as they unpacked the car in the dark and walked into the small wooden cabin.

"Oh, come on, Mattie," Alfred grinned. "That was really funny. If you were me, you'd laugh too!"

Matt sighed and looked around. "Al... what are we doing?"

"We're camping, dummy!"

"We have a kitchen."

"The better to cook with."

"And air conditioning."

"The better to relax in."

"And a jacuzzi bath."

"Heh," Alfred grinned. "That's just awesome."

"Alfred, what exactly do you think camping is?"

"S'mores and bonfires?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "I'm still not positive we're related."

Alfred laughed and stifled a yawn. "Dude, I know we're on an adventure and all, but do you think we could rest up first? We've been driving for fourteen hours." He sat heavily on the couch.

Matt smiled. "Sure. Let's put on some popcorn and a movie."

Alfred nodded gratefully and went off to the kitchen to make some Jiffy Pop. Matt sorted through the DVDs under the TV to find something good when his eye caught something interesting.

The Blair Witch Project.

When Matt had first seen this, he hadn't slept for four days straight. For years, he wouldn't set foot in the woods. Did he dare?

Matt flashed back to watching Alfred laugh uncontrollably as he screamed, not knowing the car was in park. And Alfred kidnapping him and dragging him fourteen hours away from work and up a scary mountain instead of discussing his plans beforehand like a normal human being. And never noticing him at the World Conferences, let alone introducing him to his friends.

Yeah. That bastard deserved this.

Alfred plodded back into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. "I made some popcorn for you and some for me, but more for me."**

Matt held up Blair Witch and smirked inwardly as Alfred's smile faltered.

"What's that, Matt?"

"Blair Witch Project," Matt responded evenly. "I remember Kiku saying it was good. Wanna watch it?"

"Um. I'm not sure watching The Blair Witch Project in the middle of the woods is such a good idea."

"Please?" Matt tried to look as innocent as possible. "I don't think I'm brave enough to watch it on my own." Bam. Enter the Hero.

"...umm..." Matt let his smile fade as Alfred thought.

"It's either this or Sex and the City."

Boom. Checkmate.

Alfred popped the disc in and set the popcorn between him and Matt. "Just... let me know if you get scared, alright? We can turn it off whenever."

"Thank you, Alfred." Man, Matt had that innocent smile _down_! He laughed evilly on the inside as he watched his brother. Anyone else who saw Al would think he was perfectly thrilled, eager, even, to watch this movie. But Matt saw the crinkle above his left eyebrow and the unconscious tapping of his index finger.

The bastard was scared shitless.

...

After the final scene abruptly cut out, Matt looked over at his brother and bit back a grin.

Alfred had thrown a blanket over his body and clutched his knees to he chest. He was trembling slightly and staring vacantly ahead. Matt would have felt guilty if it wasn't so hilarious.

"Wow," Matt said, trying to contain his snickers. "That was really scary! Thanks for watching with me!"

"Y-yeah," Alfred answered. "It w-was alright. Good thing you didn't watch it alone, huh?"

Matt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. A few times during the movie, Alfred made a very un-heroic 'meep' sound and tried to blame it on the Canadian. Even though they were the only ones in the cabin.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Good night."

"Wait!"

Matt turned to look at his brother, startled by the fear in his voice.

Alfred blushed. "S-Scrabble?"

Matt sighed. "It's midnight, Al. We need to get some sleep if we're gonna go white water rafting tomorrow."

"R-right, of course. Sorry."

Matt looked at the poor idiot. He was too terrified to get off the couch, let alone turn off the lamp to get to sleep.

"Maybe just one game."

Alfred sighed in relief as Matt set the board up on the coffee table and set out his letters.

They played in silence for a while and Matt felt incredibly awkward. Most of Alfred's words were single syllabic and Matt was kicking his ass for once. It really didn't feel right.

Things didn't start feeling normal until Matt turned Alfred's 'ZOO' into 'KALAMAZOO' on a triple word score.

"W-what?" Al sputtered. "That's so not a word!"

"It's a city, remember?"

"Remember what? I've never even heard of Kalamazoo!"

"Yes you have, hoser! We passed through it in Michigan! You laughed and said it was a stupid name!"

"Oh. Really?" Alfred squinted in concentration, a habit he'd kept even after he'd got his glasses. "Well... It's still a proper noun. You can't use it."

Matt pointed to three points on the board where his brother had put "AL" because he couldn't think of anything else.

"Well that's different... for some reason."

"If you get fifteen points on the next word, I'll knock off Kalamazoo. Kay?"

Alfred's eyes widened at the bet. He screwed his eyes in concentration and studied the board and his letters.

Finally, he gave a triumphant smirk as he set the letters down, intersecting three words. "Jumping," he said. "26 points. Suck it."

"52, dummy," Matt sighed, scribbling on the score sheet. "You've got a double word score in there."

"Really? Awesome!"

They kept playing for hours. Every time Matt yawned and tried to get up, Alfred made an excuse so he'd keep playing. The dark was really freaking him out.

Not that Matt particularly minded. He enjoyed being with his brother and they were having a really nice time ribbing on each other and competing. It was too much fun to stop, even though they were both exhausted.

When light finally filtered through the cabin's blinds, Alfred sighed in relief. Without warning, he slumped over and began to snore.

Matt looked over at his brother in surprise. The idiot kept him up for six hours just to fall asleep now, only three hours before the scheduled river tour? Matt poked him and called his name, but Alfred wouldn't wake up. He pinched his cheek. He hit his arm. He plugged his nose. Alfred was dead to the world.

Matt groaned in annoyance. But then again, he was pretty tired, too. Alfred hadn't let him sleep on the way down and Scrabble isn't exactly an adrenaline rush. He went to the bedroom with the two twin beds and crawled under his scratchy blanket, sighing in pleasure as he felt the mattress give in to his weight. He set the alarm on his phone to super-ultra loud and used three back up alarm functions and texted his friend Francis to please call him in two hours to wake him up (being in a different time zone, he figured it wouldn't be too big a deal.) As soon as he had all his precautions in place to make sure he was up in time to get ready for the river tour, he smiled and let himself take a quick nap.

And that's how the North American brothers managed to sleep till three in the afternoon.

...

Matt was woken up by the smell of ham cooking. His mouth watered. Bacon always woke Matt up, but today he was starving; before even opening his eyes he was on his way out the bedroom door, a puppet moving to the pull of bacon strings.

When Matt bumped into the kitchen table, he finally opened his eyes. Alfred, startled by the thump, looked at him and smiled, a stained apron tied across his waist.

"Morning, sunshine!" Alfred grinned. "We slept through the rafting thing. Sorry."

"Gimme," Matt answered, sticking his hands out for a plate. Alfred laughed and handed one to him. Matt's eyes watered in happiness at the stack of pancakes, the sunny side eggs, the liberally buttered toast and, most importantly, the pile of mixed American and regular bacon. "Thanks," he murmured, before shoving an entire pancake in his mouth.

"Sit down first, Mattie, you're gonna choke."

Matt giggled in pleasure as the fluffy goodness that is Pancake filled his senses. He sat down at the table to chew and wait for a fork.

Alfred joined him, his plate stacked high with fried eggs and bacon, several pieces of toast lying about.

"Got enoupth eggth?" Matt asked through his second pancake.

"Yeah, these are all the screw-ups," Alfred answered. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to do sunny side up with no spatula? The fork kept poking them open. So I fried 'em."

"Thanks," Matt grinned and popped a yolk with the corner of his toast.

"Dude!" Alfred shouted.

"What?"

"I just told you how long it took to make those! Don't just pop it!"

"That's how you eat yolk, hoser! You break it and soak toast in it!"

"No way!" Alfred looked indignant. "That's disgusting!"

"Well, how exactly are you supposed to eat it, then? What did you think was going to happen?"

"I dunno," Alfred shrugged and stacked his toast with egg and bacon. "I only remember you always order your eggs like that when we go out for breakfast!"

"Well maybe if you occasionally look up from your own plate..."

Alfred choked back a snicker.

"What?" Matt blindly stabbed at his plate, but only heard a clank. He looked down.

"W-where did it go?"

Alfred laughed loudly. "Dude... So awesome!"

Matt looked down at his empty plate. With despair, he realized he didn't remember tasting any of the bacon he had woken up for. He had evidently shoved everything into his mouth without using his tongue at all.

He snuck a look at Alfred's plate. "Yeah, you ate all of mine, too," Alfred answered his confused stare. "Did you at least like it?"

"I... I don't know," Matt answered. Alfred laughed and handed Matt one of his egg sandwiches.

"Chew this time," he said.

Matt gratefully bit the sandwich. Jesus. Alfred used more butter than egg seemed to melt in his mouth and Matt shivered in pleasure, getting a weird look from his brother. Matt didn't care. It was fucking good.

"So, plan," Alfred said through a mouth full of sandwich. "I say we head into town, grab some supplies, make fun of the local hicks and stay in tonight. Thoughts?"

"I thought you wanted to go hiking at some point."

Alfred flinched. "Yeah, it's just a little late, don't you think? How about tomorrow? That way we can spend all day out there."

Matt's eyes widened in surprise before he remembered why Al was nervous about the woods. He fought back an evil grin.

"Wow," he said evenly. "That movie really freaked you out, huh?"

"What? No," Alfred answered with a heroic laugh.

"Then why are you so afraid of going hiking?"

"I'm _not_ afraid, dick," Alfred said. "I just think we'll have more time tomorrow because you slept so late."

"_I_ slept so late?" Matt almost laughed. "You didn't get to sleep until 6 because you were too terrified to close your eyes!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"These are lies you are speaking!"

"You're afraid of the Blair Witch!"

"Nu-uh, _you_ are!"

"She's not even real, moron!"

"I know that!"

"Fraidy-cat, fraidy-cat, fraidy-cat...!"

"Am not, am not, am not...!"

"Alfwed's afwaid of a widdle ghost-"

"FINE!" Alfred roared, slamming his fist on the table. "Fine! You wanna get out and experience nature and shit and do some real camping? Great! Tonight we will pitch a tent and build a fire and roast marshmallows and look at the stars and it will be fucking _awesome_, you hear me? _Fucking awesome!_"

Alfred scraped his chair back and took the dishes to the sink before stomping off to the bedroom. Matt heard the tub run and bit his lip guiltily. He set to washing all of the breakfast dishes before he realized that the kitchen had a nicer dishwasher than his house. He heard muffled jets pulsate from the bathroom and sighed.

American camping is weird.

...

"Hey, Matt? How necessary are these stakes?"

Matt looked up from his fire. "I'm not sleeping in a tent without stakes, Al."

Alfred shrugged and tossed them aside. He was, like in all things, amazing at this tent building business. He ought to know what's important in a tent.

Matt turned to check out Alfred's handiwork and balked. He was, like in all things, pretty sloppy at the whole tent building business. Matt considered switching jobs with him, but the idea of Alfred trying to start a fire brought back painful memories he thought he'd done a fine job of repressing. Dammit.

The brothers had hiked for an hour before finding a suitable place to set up camp and the sun was setting quickly. The tent was a rental from the office that rented them the cabin and it smelled strongly of roast beef and marijuana. There were suspicious stains in the corner and Alfred and Matt fought frantically to be the one to lay opposite it. Alfred grumbled about already hating 'Canadian camping.'

"I'm not telling you again, Al. Put the stakes in."

Alfred made a rude gesture and mumbled to himself about snakes and bonfires and Matt's favorite part of his body. Matt smiled. Yep. This was camping, alright.

Night fell quickly. The brothers joked and ate Spaghetti-Os from cans (Alfred's idea of 'roughing it') and watched bright white points prick the inky sky. Alfred pointed out his own constellations and Matt tried not to encourage him.

"That one's called 'Reverse Cowboy.'" Al traced the lights with his finger. "That one's 'Naked Chick Waiting for the Bus' and you can see it kind of intersects 'Goetse.'"

Matt laughed and sucked his fingers clean of his roasted marshmallow. "See?" he asked Alfred. "This isn't so bad."

"Totally, dude! I actually thought it would suck so much harder!" Alfred crammed another s'more into his mouth and grinned. "Wish we had brought more blankets, though. I'm getting chilly."

"I agree." Matt stood up. "You ready to hit the hay?"

Alfred's smile faltered. "You mean... we're _sleeping_ out here?"

"Of course, moron! What did you think the sleeping bags were for?"

"I filled mine with chocolate and marshmallows. Why?" Alfred slowly connected the dots like a particularly tasteless constellation. His eyes widened. "Oooohhhhhh, _sleeping_ bag! I thought it was just a name, like Dumpster or Band-Aid. Yeah, can we not do that?"

Matt yawned. "First of all, you're an idiot. Second, I'm tired and it's an hour back to the cabin. Third, I doubt we could find our way in the dark. If you wanna go back, I'll meet you in the morning." Matt climbed into the tent and wrapped himself in his sleeping bag.

Eyes closed, Matt heard Alfred anxiously fight with himself.

"Shit," Alfred finally whispered and crawled into the tent with his brother. He fidgeted around for a second at the zipper opening before crawling over Matt to get to his sleeping bag.

Matt opened his eyes to look at the zipper. "A twist-tie?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Alfred said. "Just in case."

Matt almost laughed. In case what? Anyone who wanted to kill solitary campers in the woods would not be dissuaded by a stuck zipper. Murderers and rapists and bears (oh my!) generally weren't polite enough to knock first anyway.

"I don't think the Blair Witch is going to care about the zipper, Al," Matt teased.

"Duh, Matt. The Blair Witch isn't real." Alfred's voice shook with nervous laughter and he shoved his brother's arm.

Matt rolled his eyes and tried to adjust his body to the hard ground.

For a while, the brothers just lay on the ground waiting to fall asleep. The only noise was the crackling fire and the occasional whistle of wind through the trees. Even the frogs were quiet.

Soon, Matt started to feel his bladder ache. He pulled out of his sleeping bag and slipped on his shoes before fumbling with the twist tie on the tent zipper.

"What are you doing?" came Alfred's harsh whisper.

"I've got to take a whiz," Matt whispered back.

"Oh. Should I come with you?"

"What? No," Matt suddenly realized he was whispering and spoke out loud. "No. I'm pretty sure I can manage by myself."

"Be careful," Alfred barely murmured.

"Sure," Matt said and climbed out of the tent.

As he was relieving himself on a tree, Matt thought about what an idiot his brother was to be so afraid of the woods because of a stupid movie. Sure, Matt had been scared shitless, but he was Canadian. That's a given. He'd never claimed to be some amazing hero like Alfred had.

Slowly, as Matt finished, an evil grin spread across his face. He felt so much better when his brother was vulnerable. Why not fuck with him a little more to end that idiotic hubris?

Matt zipped his pants and started looking on the ground for two perfect rocks. He found them and smirked, walking up behind the tent. He tapped them together, lightly.

_Clack. Clackclack._

He heard Alfred quit fidgeting and go entirely motionless.

_Clack. Clack._

Alfred's sleeping bag rustled a small bit. "_M-matt_?" Al whispered.

_Clack clack clack. Clack._

"Matt!" Alfred raised his voice in terror. Matt smirked and clacked once more before making his way to the front of the tent. Alfred unzipped the tent just as Matt got there.

"What's wr-AH!" Alfred pulled him in by the front of his shirt and Matt fell on his face.

"What the fuck, asshole?" Alfred ignored him and set to rocking the twist tie.

"Shh," Alfred whispered. "There's someone out there!"

"No, Alfred, I"

"_SHH!_"

Matt lowered his voice. "Alfred, I was just fucking with you."

"I'm not talking about the rocks, douchebag. Listen."

Matt was about to insult Alfred, but his breath hitched in his throat. He heard it.

A soft rustle and... wheezing? Definitely the pattern of footsteps.

"Ohshitohshitohshitohshit, Alfred, what do we do?" Matt felt tears sting his eyes and he trembled.

Alfred scootched over to his brother. "It's okay," he said, putting an arm around Matt. "It'll be okay. Just take a few deep breaths, alright?"

Matt realized he was hyperventilating and focused himself on trying to slow his breathing. Meanwhile, the footsteps came closer and the foreign breathing louder. The brothers unconsciously held each other tighter.

"Please please PLEASE tell me you have a plan, Alfred." Matt was so terrified he felt a tear run down his cheek.

"I'm thinking," Alfred whispered back. "But I'm not sure what's out there. I can't believe you convinced me not to bring Detroit." Alfred was, of course, referring to his switchblade.

The steps got louder and started to mutter incoherently. Matt trembled. "Al, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry for everything. For the movie, for the bacon, for never having the time to call you? I'm so sorry."

"Me too, bro. I'm sorry I treat you like a kid. And I always rip on you. And I know some people don't like you because you're related to me, and I'm sorry for that, too. I'm so, so sorry for dragging you out here, Matt. I only wanted us to have a good time together."

A large shadow filled the tent and the footsteps stopped. "I know you're in there," came a husky, breathless voice. "Come out."

"I always have a good time with you, Al," Matt breathed. "I love you."

"I love you too, bro."

"I can hear you!" came the voice. "Open up!"

Alfred and Matt clung to each other as the invader shook at the tent's tied zippers. Matt could feel a cry of terror rise in his throat, but he willed it back into his lungs. The zippers pried themselves apart and Matt felt Alfred tense.

The zippers finally ripped free and Alfred lunged at the flap as Matt screamed.

"Wha- GAHH!" Alfred landed on the startled monster and punched it repeatedly in the face as it yelled obscenities. For a brief second, Matt felt surprised and in awe of his brother's bravery.

Then Matt realized the monster was wearing a ranger uniform.

"Get the fuck off me!" the ranger screamed between punches.

"Al, get off! It's just a park ranger!"

Alfred paused just long enough to look down at the bloody mustached face on the ground. "O-oh," he said, lowering his fist. "Um... what can we do for you, sir?"

"Get OFF!" the ranger shouted and Alfred scrambled to his feet to help the portly man up. "The hell are you boys doing out here, huh?"

"C-camping," blushed Matt.

"No shit, asshole. I mean why are you camping out _here_? You're two miles away from the nearest legal campsite."

Alfred and Matt looked at each other in surprise. "Legal?"

"Yes, idiots. I only came out here because I saw a fire, but I have half a mind to call in the authorities for assault!"

"We're so sorry, officer. We had no idea."

"S'more?" Alfred added helpfully. Matt elbowed him in the ribs.

"You dumbasses have thirty minutes to pack up and leave. And if I see one bit of trash left behind, I will find you and fine you so hard you'll be lucky to keep your dicks. Clear?"

Alfred had already begun to dismantle the tent, leaving the sleeping bags inside. Matt cleared all evidence from the campsite before dousing the fire with a bottle of water. In ten minutes, they were packed up under the stern watch of Ranger Dickhole.

Alfred looked around with his flashlight and landed on the ranger. "I, um, don't suppose you could give us a ride back to camp?"

"Go that way," the ranger pointed. "Don't stop until you reach the cabins." He walked off, muttering ugly threats and insults.

Matt and Alfred looked at each other after the ranger left. They laughed.

"Aw, man," Alfred giggled. "I thought for sure we were gonna die!"

"Me too, dude! Shit, I'm glad I had just pissed!"

The brothers threw their arms around each other and walked back to the cabin, laughing loudly, completely unafraid.

...

"Call me this week so we can do lunch, okay?" Alfred leaned out the window as his brother walked up the steps to his house.

"Absolutely," Matt called back. "But take a shower first. I don't to sit across from that stench."

"There wasn't any time!" Alfred protested.

Matt laughed. As soon as the lady who rented the cabins out heard the brothers had viciously attacked a park ranger, she'd marched over to Al and Matt's and demanded they get the hell of her property. Matt and Alfred packed up quickly and got chased out with a broom handle.

"Take it easy, okay?" Matt called.

"You too, bro. See ya." And with that, Alfred drove off.

Matt closed the door behind him and dropped his stuff on the ground. He slowly climbed the stairs to his bathroom and ran the hottest bath he could. Matt stripped down and he hissed in pleasure as the hot water swallowed his foot.

For a long time, he laid in the water, eyes closed. Gradually, he remembered the jets in the bath in the cabin Alfred rented and the perfect way they hit his shoulders. He thought about the fluffy pancakes and the awesome dishwasher and the flat screen TV. He thought about Scrabble and bacon and the stomach-dropping heights in the mountain and the dirty constellations and the perfectly cooked s'mores.

"Heh," he said to himself. "American camping rules.

**And the end. I know it's disjointed, but I thought it was fun. I hope you liked it enough to leave a review. I am a vampire and reviews are the blood of the innocent. Reviews are the shark and I am the pathetic Remora that spends its life chasing them. I'm a straight up review whore.**

**Eenyhoo, I hope you didn't mind that this was totally unrelated to romance and it was jerky and a little weird.**

**Oh! Stars! Okay!**

***: This is true. Ohio is pointless. I'm so sorry, Ohioans, but you are the armpit of our country. I say this mostly because up here in Michigan, the only virtue is that we're not Ohio. So we rip on you a lot.**

****: Anyone who can tell me what I'm referencing gets love and a million theoretical dollars. **

**Thanks everyone, and have a wonderful day!**


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